The Day After Yesterday
by Neverlandite
Summary: As as result of severe trauma and abuse Harry has Multiple Personality Disorder MPD and doesn't realize it. Snape finds out eventually and decides its his obligation to help, and a lot of interesting discoveries are on their way.
1. Black Holes

**Disclaimer:** I am not JKR, and I'm not trying to be. I'm just playing with her wonderful world and Characters.

**A/N:** This is based on the challange set forth by Emysabath regarding MPD (alsoreferred to as Dissociative Identity Disorder). I first read a fanfiction about MPD when I found Broken Mind, Fractured Soul, which I loved and recommend it to all. I then read Emysabath's Me, Myself, and I which was also good. I've been reaserching and studying Multiple Personality Disorder, as well as other disorders because I want to write a novel regarding it eventually, and I figured starting with this fanfic would be good practice. This chapter's kind of just to get things set up, and It'll get more interesting soon, I promise. I have lots of plans for this story, but I'm also open to suggestions. And if anyone wants to Beta I'd love you forever. 3

**Summary:** Harry has Multiple Personality Disorder but no one knows (yet). His friends are concerned. Snape finds out later. Etc. Etc. Etc.

**Chapter One: Black Holes**

It was a late Sunday afternoon in September and Harry sat curled up in the corner of the Hogwarts library with a rather large tome spread across his lap. The title on the spine of the book read: "The Dead Don't Have to Leave Us: Wizards and Controlling the After Life". Instead of being absorbed in the book however, Harry's attention seemed to be focus on the large windows opposite from his corner which displayed a lovely view of a whole lot of nothing.

As if waking from a trance, Harry shivered and looked down at the book in his lap as if noticing it for the first time. He was in the library? He certainly didn't remember going there, or selecting whatever book he now held. He curiously closed it and read the title of the book. Before he'd even had time to register the whole thing, he dropped the book. He didn't know why but he felt weird. It was almost as if he were going to pass out

"Harry!" said a voice to his right, which was something he found rather disconcerting. He recognized the bushy hair of Hermione. When had she arrived? And _why _couldn't he remember! "That's only the third time I'm said your name Harry. You've been sitting down here for hours. What's wrong with you!? We were all worried sick."

"Sorry." He mumbled apologetically. "I guess I fell asleep or something…" He did sort of feel like he'd just woken up. The room seemed uncharacteristically foggy and he had an searing pain in his left wrist, which he assumed was from the weight of the book. It wasn't uncommon for him to space out periodically, but the fact that these 'zoning-out' things were becoming more frequent worried him. Before, they'd mostly occurred during the end of school years and the summer. He'd always brushed it off as a seasonal thing, like allergies or something. There were also large gaps of memory from his childhood, but he didn't really know any kids who could remember details from when they were really little. Except Hermione, but she was just like that. Nothing exciting or eventful had happened when he was a kid, so he didn't see any reason why he should remember.

However, ever since the previous May he'd found himself zoning out more than usual. He'd find himself in the kitchen, or class, or sometimes even outside near the forest without any recollection of how he'd gotten there or why. Now that he thought about it, there were lots of things he couldn't remember the details of. Like Quidditch, for example. He'd remember talking about having a game the next day, and he remember waking up in the hospital wing, or his dorm, but nothing of the in-between bits. He couldn't ever remember actually flying. But seeing as almost every time he'd flown he sustained some kind of injury or illness, he didn't find this surprising. When people got hurt they forgot, right?

"Harry! You're doing it again" came Hermione's increasingly shrill voice in his ear.

Harry gave her his best attempt at a sheepish smile." Sorry, Mi."

After giving him a look of mild reproach with a touch of concern, she continued. "Well if you're done staring at the empty space, then we're late for dinner. You coming?"

The glare he received when he paused clearly said he didn't have a choice. "Yeah, yeah, lets go." And with that, he was up.

Hermione waited until he had rounded the corner before she told him to go on without her because a book had caught her attention, which wasn't completely a lie. She knelt down slowly and picked up Harry's discarded book. When she noticed the title she pulled her hand to her mouth with disgust and, if it were possible, sank even further into the floor. "Oh, Harry" she whispered apologetically as a single tear ran down her face. What had she done? Or more importantly, what had she not done?

She knew her friend must be hurting over the death of his godfather, but every time she'd tried to bring it up he'd shrug his shoulders and changed subjects un-phased. He always seemed a little different following those occurrences though. Sometimes he'd become excessively 'Gryfindorish' talking about Quidditch and the like, and other times he'd become darker, more sinister. It was always subtle, but it was there.

She eventually gave up and figured when he was ready to talk he'd come to her, or Ron, or someone and there'd be no harm done, but apparently there was. She silently cursed herself for not pressing the matter further. She had no idea her friend had been holing up in secluded corners reading books on dark magic and the after-life. That couldn't possibly be healthy! But it did, at least, explain all of his seemingly mysterious absences. Something was going on here. Stowing the book in her bag and making a vow to figure out just what that something was she stood and headed for the Great Hall. Research could wait- she needed to keep a closer eye on Harry from now on. That's what friends were


	2. The Black Holes Deepen

**A/N:** I didn't expect to have another chapter up this soon, but I was home sick from school today and felt like writing. I ended up going a different way after chapter one than expected, and this probably should just be part of the same chapter, so I'll probably combine the two later. For now though, here's another chapter. You kind of meet two of Harry's alters indirectly in this part, and there's a touch of Snape :)

And in response to something someone said in a review- this IS a response to a challange. Therefore, there are things that will be similar to other stories because that's the idea of a challange. Its like when a company performs a play, they take same ideas but give it a unquie touch and flavor of their own. Thats what I'm doing- its not plagarism. I'm taking an idea put forth in a challange and putting my own twist on it. That's what makes fanfiction fun. Taking the same characters and world and making something new out of it. With that said, here's the story.

**Chapter Two: The Black Hole Deepens**

It had been nearly a week since Hermione had confronted Harry in the library, and ever since he'd barely had a moment alone. Her ever-constant presence was getting tiresome and he'd had enough.

"Goddammit, Hermione! I don't know what the bloody hell your problem is, but I'm 15-years-old and the last time I checked I didn't need a babysitter. If you're so intent on following someone about, then find some one who actually likes you and wants to listen to you rattle on and on about god-knows-what. I could care less, so SOD OFF!" Harry's eyes flashed a dangerous hue of angry jade as his rant grew to a fierce climax and he flung the book about cheering charms Hermione's handed him back at her, barely missing her head. The startled teen broke out into loud sobs and fled from the room, leaving a now very confused Harry to be yelled at by and irate red-head.

"What's your problem, man. Leave Hermione alone, we were only trying to help because we _cared_. I see now that that was a waste of time. Look at what you've done. Feel better now, do you? Making a girl cry. You disgust me, Potter. I don't see how I ever could have been your friend." And with that, he disappeared through the portrait hole, no doubt on his way to find Hermione.

Harry was left standing next to the table in the common room a look of utter dismay and confusion spread across his face. Why was Hermione crying, and why was Ron angry at him? Had he done something? He could remember. All he remember was sitting down at the table with Ron and Hermione to get some defense homework finished before lunch. Feeling a sudden wave and exhaustion and dizziness, Harry sank into the nearest arm chair and buried his face in his hands. He had such a sever headache and he didn't understand why.

A small red-haired girl perched herself on the arm of the same chair, unnoticed by the sullen teen. After looking over her friend for a few moments she gently laid her hand on his shoulder. "Harry?" she murmured softly.

In a split second Harry flinched, startled by the touch and pulled his legs as far into the chair as possible. Shivering as though terrified, he threw his hands up over his head protectively. Had his face not been hidden, Ginny would have noticed the wide emerald eyes, shinning with unshed tears and the fearful expressions on the child's every feature. The reaction disappeared as quickly as it had come and Harry's arms fell back towards his sides. It was then that Harry noticed the youngest Weasley. "Gin?"

"I'm here, Harry," she replied soothingly as her hand slowly came to rest on his arm once more. "What's wrong?"

"I…I don't know, Gin," he answered honestly. "What happened?"

"You don't remember, do you?" her voice now filled with wonder at this discovery.

"I was just doing homework! Then the next thing I know Hermione's crying, and Ron's yelling and I have this pounding headache!" The boy was becoming more distressed with each word as he continued. "I'm cold, and I'm shaky, and I don't. Know. Why!"

"Shhh," came a gentle whisper as the girl's hand moved from his arm to his head and she began to stroke his hair comfortingly. "I'll go get Madam Pomfrey or…"

"No!" Harry's eyes grew wide with fear and then flashed angrily for a moment before softening. I'm just going to go lie down for a bit, okay? I'm fine, Ginny, I promise."

She didn't believe him, not for a second, but the only reply that left her mouth was a soft "Okay, Harry". Her worried gaze followed him as he retreated upstairs towards his dorm. Something was clearly wrong.

Once upstairs Harry crawled beneath the heavy covers of his four-poster. He couldn't explain what was wrong, or why he felt the way he did but it made his head spin trying to figure all of it out. Now all he wanted to do was sleep.

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Night had fallen on Hogwarts and all were soundly asleep. The other four residents of the 6th-year boys dormitory had returned to the tower and proceeded nosily to bed, though none of their carrying-ons had woken Harry. Not long after they're reached a comfortable sleep, terrified screams filled the room and woke up the other occupants.

Harry was soon discovered as the source of the noise and the others gathered around the thrashing teen's bed. "No. Please. I'll be good, I promise, Uncle Vernon. Please. I'll be good." The voice pronouncing these words sounded nothing like Harry's but more like that of a frightened toddler. The others succeeded in waking the child up. Harry was much paler than normal and trembling severely. He tried to talk but nothing was working, he then made an attempt to crawl out of bed, and immediately fell to the floor and began to violently vomit.

The others looked on, one wearing a more worried expression than the rest, but after a few moments of watching the ill figure in front of them, they all returned to their beds as if nothing had happened. They'd done their duty and woken the boy from his nightmare. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Harry's temper, especially after his display that afternoon in the common room.

In all of the commotion the boys had been too preoccupied to notice a small girl slip into their dorm. Unable to sleep, Ginny had been sitting in the common room watching the flames of the fire die out. She was worried about Harry, and as soon as she heard the screams, she knew exactly where they'd been coming from. Her suspicions were confirmed as soon as she reached the dorm. She watched the subsequent events unfold and was appalled at what she saw. Not one of the boys offered to help Harry, who was still on the floor shaking. Ron hadn't even left his bed. The prat!

It took all of her self-restraint not to rush over to her friend and scold the others for their heartlessness. Instead she remained in the shadows for a moment, before slipping back out as quietly as she had come. Harry had become distressed at her suggestion of Madame Pomfrey earlier, so instead she headed for McGonagall's office. Someone had to help.

Ginny was rather talented at getting places unnoticed, and her four years at Hogwarts she'd rarely been caught. There was something about tonight, however, that threw her system off. She had reached the third floor, only two more down and she'd arrive at her destination. Why in the world had they place the head-of-house's quarters so far away from her students dorms! Absorbed in her thoughts and worry, Ginny didn't notice the black-cloaked figure stealthily approaching her.

"Well, well, well, Ms. Weasley. Out of bounds after curfew, what a pleasant surprise. Though I must say you weren't who I was expected to be lurking in the corridors. What mischief do I have the honor of catching you Gryffindor's doing tonight?

She slowly turned around, knowing that the dangerously silky voice could only belong to her potions professor. With an air of being calm and collected she replied evenly. "Hello Professor Snape."

He looked her over , noticing that something was off in the demeanor of the usually fiery read-head. "Yes, Ms Weasley. That would be my name. Now that we've observed all the pleasantries, you have exactly five minutes to explain yourself before I assign you a month of detention and march you to Professor McGonagall's office. And I must insist that she won't be happy to see you."

"Well, professor, that's where I was heading to begin with."

"and why, pray tell, are you coming to bother her at three o'clock in the morning?" His voice portrayed no emotion but he was beginning to worry. Something was clearly wrong for this student to get caught. He remember her being particularly good at prowling for he was yet to catch her, though he was certain she got up to her share of shenanigans. The golden trio could learn a few lessons from her.

Ginny paused for a moment in inner-debate. Snape _was_ a professor after all, and she was pretty sure he could be of help, even if Harry hated him. She really didn't have a choice." It's Harry, sir. He's really ill or something I…"

" Hush, I assure you this is probably just another one of Potter's attention-seeking ploys and you have no cause for alarm. However, since I have already been bothered with your presence, and I see no need to wake Professor McGonagall for such a trivial matter, I'll come check on your precious golden boy." He followed the young student back towards the seventh floor. He was vaguely intrigued (and though he'd never admit it, not even to himself, concerned) . Why was potter ill? And how did Weasley know? More important why wasn't it granger or her brother or another boy from their dorm who'd come to fetch help? And why McGonagall instead of Pomfrey if the boy was ill? He was bombarded with questions none of which he bothered asking, almost positive that he wouldn't be receiving any answers from his only current company. As he watched her small form climb the stairs he could tell she was visibly distressed. Never having been good at comfort, Severus deemed it was best that they remain in silence.

They reached the tower quickly and he started up towards the boy's dormitories. Ginny made to followed, but he turned on his heel, eyes flashing dangerously. " You WILL return to your dormitory at once, Ms. Weasley." She seemed as if she would protest for a moment, but then with a look of resigned defeat she nodded. Satisfied, Severus continued on his journey.

Upon entering the sixth year's dorm Severus was more than just a little shocked at what he saw. He'd expected Potter to be lying in bed surrounded by his roommates, being doted upon and coddled. What he found, however, was quite different than expected. Poster was curled up on the blood, leaning against the side of his bed, as if too weak to lift himself back onto it. His state left him appearing quite pathetic and ill. The other four boys were all lying in their beds, sleeping or pretending. Severus didn't know which was worse. The only one who was even slightly upset seemed to be Longbottom, who appeared to be struggling between weather or not he should get up. What surprised him most was the fact that Ronald Weasley laid in bed, turned away from Potter, as if he could care less.

After taking in his surroundings for a brief moment, Severus took a deep breath and put back up his icy mask. He wanted answers and he was going to get them.


	3. Confrontations

**A/N:** Yet another chapter, this one you finally get some Potter/Snape interaction. Yay? Its a bit longer than usual, so don't expect another update for a week or two. I'm still not positive how to get from here to the next part I have written, but I'll get there eventually. Thanks for the reviews, they make me muchly happy. 3s!

**Chapter Three: Confrontations**

"Potter!" He shouted, slamming open the door to the 6th year boys dormitory and storming in, robes billowing. He regretted this instantly when the boy flinched and threw his hands over his head protectively. He was aware Potter disliked him, but cowering in fear? That was Longbottom's area of expertise. After snapping at the rooms other occupants o mind their own business and return to sleep, he knelt beside Harry.

"Harry?" he whispered gently. "Harry can you hear me?" There was no response. Severus reached out a hand and touched the child's shoulder. This got the desired effect of a reaction- The boy began to whimper and attempted to crawl away from Severus. The boy was acting like an abuse victim- something Severus had become familiar with in all his years as the head of Slytherin. Harry hadn't been abused, though! He was spoiled and pampered and doted upon by loving relatives and admiring friends. And yes, here he was crawling under beds and whimpering. Severus shook his head in disbelief. For some reason the fact that this was Harry Potter didn't matter at the moment. He put his hand under the trembling child's chin and looked him in the eye. "You're safe, Harry" he stated quietly, feeling the strongest need to let the child know that.

Something must have registered in the boy's mind, because he quieted and a glazed look came over his face. At this point though, even glazed was better than the empty, vacant look the small eyes had held only moments before. Snape case a quick memory charm, so the other boys would remember nothing but Potter waking up from a nightmare, and then returning to sleep. He had to keep up appearances, right? It had nothing to do with Potter's privacy, why did he care if all of Potter's secrets were leaked to the world? Though he'd be damned if they found out before he did.

Returning to his 'Snape' demeanor, he stood and snapped harshly at the boy. "Potter, get up this instant. You are carrying on quite unnecessarily and causing a horrible racket! It was only a dream!"

Snape half-expected the boy to whimper again, but tonight was a night of unexpected things. Green eyes darted quickly around in apparent confusion, but as soon as they landed on Snape they stopped and returned to the angry shade of jade that Severus was so used to seeing on the child.

"Professor," he sneered in a way that made Severus's skin crawl. "I know you secretly harbor a desire for us lions, but sneaking into our dormitory at three in the morning to watch us sleep? That's going a bit too far don't you think?"

"Look here, Potter" he drawled as he roughly grabbed the boy's arm. "I don't have time for games, so you are going to shut-up and come. With. Me."

Not looking the least bit threatened Potter shrugged, "Private time, eh? Sorry, Professor, but I don't really swing that way." Though his face and words were confident, he was desperately struggling to free his arm from Snape's ever tightening grasp.

"Let's go, Potter." Was Snape's only reply as he tightened the grip and stalked out of the room, dragging an angry teen from the tower.

Ginny watched them leave from behind the secrecy of the large arm chair she'd curled up into upon being sent to bed. At least professor Snape was _doing_ something; it was more than anyone else had done. Leaving things up to him she soon fell fast asleep with the hope that things would begin to improve from here on out.

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The teen continued to struggle and protest the entire way to the dungeons, all the while muttering insults about greasy-haired, potion-master, Death Eaters. Snape threw open the door to his office, pushing the teenager onto the couch and quickly locking the door and casting deep silencing spells over the room. Potter immediately leapt off the couch and went straight for the door. He struggled with the lock for a moment and then turned looking wildly about the room for an alternative exit. Finding none, returned his attention to the door, becoming more frantic as he began to realize he was trapped.

"It's locked, Mr. Potter, now have a seat." It was like the child couldn't even hear him. The thin form took no notice of the words and fell to the floor hyperventilating and appeared to be on the verge of having a panic attack. "God Dammit, Potter." Severus said frustrated as he knelt by the child yet again. "Rest assured, if you are faking this, or it's one of your plots to seek attention, rest assured I will make your life so miserable you wished you were dead."

The reply was so barely audible that Severus couldn't be sure it had been there, but a voice had quietly muttered, "I already do". Upon looking back at the boy, he concluded that his mind was simply playing tricks upon him. The child was still frantically struggling with the door. Severus was at a loss. He couldn't touch the boy- that was clearly out of the question and would result only in disaster. Having no other choice but to let the kid wear himself out, Severus took a seat in his large chair near the fire and observed the boy for a few moments. It didn't take long for a dramatic change to take place. The frightened, struggle had ended and the boy was calm, facial expressions fixed as he stood, facing Severus, with his arms crossed and scowling.

Snape gestured at the couch to Harry's left, indicating that the boy should sit. He declined the invitation with a shake of his head, scowl never leaving his face. Severus let out an exasperated sigh. "Well Potter? Explain yourself."

His question was met only with silence. "Potter!" He was getting steadily more irritated as time wore on. "It's three in the morning and I want nothing more than to be ride of you and your incessant presence so I can go to sleep! But that's not going to happen until I get some answers!" the man was roaring by this point, but the boy remained unphased and chucked a bit under his breath.

"Well, Snape" he drawled, acting as though he ought to be the one irritated and bent out of shape. "Perhaps it would be easier to grant you your precious answers if you actually asked some questions. Oh, but I forget. You're a Slytherin, so I guess intelligence is too much to desire."

It took all of Snape's control not to slap the boy across the face. He took yet another deep breath (that had to be what, his eight of the night? He was well on his way to setting a record). "And if you stop your ridiculous Gryffindor squabbling, perhaps I could, Potter." At that point he bit his tongue, adding only in his head_ "You arrogant, foolish, brat of a child!"_

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you will give me answers. For each question you refuse, or fail to answer in what I deem a satisfactory manner you will receive a detention. Is that understood?"

Potter's scowl deepened, but be complied. "Yes, Professor Snape. Whatever you say Professor Snape," came his sing-song reply, laced with sarcasm as the Gryffindor added the flourish of a mock curtsy.

"You awoke your dorm mates with incessant screaming and thrashing about- What was the cause?"

"Voldemort." Snape shuddered involuntarily. "Does that bother you Snape? Saying the precious name of your beloved master? Volde…"

"Silence!" Snape's face was now radiating fury. Calming down as much as possible, he attempted to continue the conversation which was quickly turning into a vicious argument. "So the Dark Lord, he sent you a vision?"

As if bored Potter answered "No" like he was speaking to a four-year-old who didn't understand the simplest of concepts. "I have nightmares, no doubt due to your _lord_. It's nothing new; I've been having them forever. I usually put up silencing charms so I don't wake anyone up, but I guess I forgot tonight. Though what the hell you were doing in my dorm, I'm not sure I want to know.

"Language, Potter" he admonished, not sure why he even bothered.

"Look Snape, are we done playing twenty questions yet? I have better things to do with my time than sit here with an ugly-as-sin, evi…"

"You will be silent!" All traces of forced calmness erased from the potion's master.

The increasingly common look of dazed confusion was once again prominent on Potter's face. "I'm sorry Professor; I think I dozed off for a second there. What were you saying?"

Snape took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself. "Do you have even the slightest clue as to why you are here Mr. Potter, or do you just think I'm stupid?"

The boy slowly shook his head, and then offered the only guess that began to make sense at this point. "Err…detention, professor?"

Snape gave up. He would get no further tonight (Or quite possibly ever). He turned and retreated into his cupboard for a moment, and then returned with a small vial clutched in his hand. He held it out in offering to Potter. "Here."

The boy apprehensively took the bottle. "Sir..."

"Dreamless sleep, Potter!" He snapped before the question barely began to form on the child's lips. "Since you quite obviously aren't sleeping enough to stay awake for a simple detention, you will return to your bed, drink all of this, and sleep! I will not have you falling asleep in my morning potions class! You will stay after class so we can arrange your re-scheduled detention when you're coherent. Now, Go!"

The boy quietly muttered more apologies as he shuffled out of Severus' office, leaving the Head of Slytherin to contemplate the strange events that had unfolded that evening. Perhaps the boy had been telling the truth when he said it was simply a nightmare as a result of the Dark Lord. But that didn't explaining why Potter kept acting as though he didn't remember where he'd been. Had he accidentally wiped potter's memory when he did the memory charm on the other 6th-years? No, that was ridiculous; his spell work was anything but shoddy, especially when it came to memories and the mind- that was Severus's area of expertise, second only to his beloved potions. And that wouldn't explain the _whimpering_. Severus shuddered at the mere thought. What horrors could Harry's past possibly hold that would reduce him to THAT. And confound it all, since when did he think of the boy as Harry? He was Potter and always would be Potter.

Frustrated beyond belief, Severus sought the only option he felt was left and stormed off to see a certain wizard who would no-doubt awake at this hour, though Severus found he didn't much care. It wasn't until he'd reached the gargoyles in front of the office that he realized he didn't know the password, and flooing would be much more practical.

It was well past four at this point and Severus concluded that there'd be no point in sleeping now. He trudged back to his quarters and threw a handful of green powder into the flames. "Albus Dumbledore"

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"Severus? Do come in child." The man in question simply glared as he collapsed into the nearest arm chair. He'd never been a big fan of the floo system, and probably never would be. It never ceased to put him in a foul mood. "Now what seems to be the problem, my dear boy? I don't suspect it was tea and biscuits that brought you to my office at this hour? Though now that I think on it, that does sound quite lovely. Tea Severus?"

The old man was met with yet another scowl as Severus waved it away with his arm. "It's about Potter" he said, getting straight to the point, voice dripping with venom. "He's had another dream, or vision as he likes to call them."

"Hmm…indeed. And he came to you? To discuss this vision of his?"

Severus scoffed at the statement. "I found one of his little Gryffindor mates causing a ruckus in the corridors and blathering on about how 'precious Harry' said the world was ending or some nonsense. I felt the need to investigate and found Potter has simply been dreaming. He mentioned something about Dolhov being tortured, an instance that occurred some months ago, if you do recall. Though I have no doubt that his retelling was fully accurate.

Albus only serenely continued to sip his tea. "Well, the vision clearly poses no immediate danger, what is it you wish to ask of me, Severus?"

"I feel the need that Potter should resume occlumancy lessons, Albus."

"Oh, I fully aggress. I feel he never should have stopped, but I believe when I approached you last spring you remained quite firm on your views of the matter. Has your opinion changed?"

Evading the question, Severus simply moved on. "I have your permission then, Albus?"

Recognizing the hint that he could push the matter no further, he conceded. "By all means."

Severus stood and returned to the fireplace. "Goodnight, Albus."

"Goodnight, Severus" And that was that. For reasons unbeknownst to the headmaster, Severus Snape and Harry Potter would be spending an evening a week together once more.


	4. Of Sleeping Draughts and Little Sisters

**A/N:** The last chapter got a lot less reviews than the other two, so I don't know if that means it was written worse, or if people just decided they didn't like how the story was going, or if people just don't feel like reviewing. It doesn't really matter, though. I'm gonna keep posting regardless of if I get reviews or not. Feedback is always welcome, though and I really do like constructive criticism. If I'm doing something dumb or something people just hate- TELL ME.

Anyway, here's another chapter. It isn't all that long, but I like where I ended it and couldn't really see having more of a chapter that didn't really go with the first part. I like writing Ginny though, and if you couldn't already tell I'm a Ginny/Harry fan. (No SS/HP slash in this story) and Snape is in it his role gets a lot bigger starting in the next chapter but Ginny's plays an important part too. I'm sure I've rambled far too much so I'll end it here. Enjoy!

**Of Sleeping Draughts and Little Sisters**

Harry awoke the next morning in a strangely good mood. The cause of this, he believed, was the fact that he couldn't recall having a single nightmare and felt as though he'd had a full twelve hours of sleep, when in fact, he'd barely managed five. Yet another strangeness was the fact that even though it was not quite half-past eight, all of his fellow sixth years were already dressed and gone, and classes didn't begun until ten.

Harry pulled himself out of bed and shuffled over to his dresser. As he opened the top drawer in search of a relatively clean T-shirt to put on, he noticed a small, empty vial lying next to the photograph of his parents. The label clearly read: "Dreamless Sleep- One Dose". Well, that explained why he felt so awake, though he was still at a loss as to who he's come to possess the potion. For some reason, he found himself thinking of Professor Snape. It had to have come from him, didn't it? It was either him or Madame Pomfrey, and he couldn't recall visiting the hospital wing since he'd returned to school. Hadn't Ginny mentioned something about it yesterday? His brain was so clouded up that he couldn't remember anything past waking up that morning. Ginny must have given him the bottle, then. Wherever it had come from, he was rather grateful. He hadn't felt this extraordinary in ages.

Once dressed Harry grabbed his school bag, not even bothering to make sure he had the right books. Even the prospect of double Potions couldn't dampen his mood. Well, perhaps it could a little.

Entering the Great Hall, he headed for his usual seat between Ron and Hermione as most mornings at least one argument broke out between the pair and he was left to patch it up. However, the two were already sitting together, closely surrounded by vast amounts of upper-year Gryffindors, Seamus and Dean among them. Neville offered Harry an apologetic look, but the others didn't so much as glance in his direction. He looked about in bewilderment for a moment before a small, gentle hand cam to rest on his arm.

"C'mon, Harry," Ginny said as she pulled him towards the opposite end of the table. "Let's sit over here." As noble and kind as her intention had been, the girl's plan failed miserably. Even the second and third years glared at the two in disgust as they made to take a seat. "Oh, this is ridiculous!" Ginny all but shouted, frustrated beyond belief.

She stood and stormed over to the Ravenclaw table, dragging Harry along with her once more. Taking a seat across from Luna she began to mutter angrily. "Stupid, petty, rumor-mongering…"

Harry tried to interrupt but once the fiery redhead had begun her tirade there was no stopping her. Harry relented his attempts and waited until she was winding down before he began speaking. "Gin…"

"I HATE Gryffindors!"

He decided it was best to jump in quickly, lest she got started ranting again. "I hate to point it out, but you are a Gryffindor, y'know. Come on, Ginny," he continued, placing his hand on her wrist in a comforting sort of way. "What's gong on? You can tell me. Why are they all mad at you? Is it because you're dating that Michel Corner guy? Becau…"

"Harry!" she sighed in exasperation. "First off, Michael and I broke up nearly two weeks ago."

"Oh, well that's great!" was Harry's first response, and upon realizing his insensitivity tried to rectify his statement. "I…well I mean, I'm sorry you broke up, that must have been awful…but he…well he wasn't ever all that nice to you…and….well you deserve someone who's nice to you. That's all." By the end of his rambling speech a blush had begun to spread across Harry's cheeks.

Ginny smiled shyly back at him. "Thanks. He was kind of a git…" And then remembering the topic at hand continued on with it. "But anyway, they aren't mad at me Harry. Except maybe a bit for associating with you, but it's ridiculous anyway. They're mad at YOU Harry. Though, word traveled faster than I'd have thought, I figured it'd just be the upper years. Stupid prats, the lot of them. Everyone's always got to have the same stance on everything just because that's how the rest of the house feels without even thinking for themselves! It disgusts me! Half of them probably don't even know why they're mad at you!"

"Why are they mad at me?"

She sighed again. "You had a fight with Ron yesterday. Don't you remember it at all?" She wasn't sure why she was asking, he didn't remember it yesterday, and he no doubt still didn't.

He paused for a moment. He could lie to her and say yes, but this was _Ginny_ and being the only one who was still talking to him from his house, he figured he might as well owe her the truth. He shook his head slowly. "I remember him yelling at me later, but I can't recall the argument itself. I keep forgetting things, Gin. But it's not like normal forgetting, it's weird. I'm not sure how to explain it; I don't even understand it myself. It feels as though I never knew it. I feel like…like the argument with Ron, for example, never happened. I was studying and then I fell asleep, or disappeared for a while and woke up somewhere else. That's not normal, Ginny!" His voice, which had been steadily increasing throughout his confession, now reached a hysterical high, as he slammed his fist down rather loudly on the table before sinking his head into his hands.

More than half the hall was staring now, and the few who'd tried to conceal it before, now gawked openly. The Gryffindors in particular were concerned that he was giving Ginny a dose of what Hermione had gotten yesterday and were ready to vault over the table in a fit of heroics and rescue her. However, all theatrics were soon realized to be unnecessary as a few minutes passed and Ginny was neither sobbing nor fleeing the hall in distress. The others reluctantly turned back to their meals and their friends.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly, but firmly, strangely a bit reminiscent of her mother.

In a hollow voice consumed with despair he responded, "I'm crazy, Ginny, I swear it. I'm crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy, Harry." She turned her body towards him, and pulled on leg onto the chair beneath herself. "Come on, we'll figure this out together."

Harry picked his head up out of his hands and looked over at her, creases of worry etched all over his face. "Oh, Ginny. You've no idea how strange and horrible it is to lose time and have no idea what's happened."

"Actually," she interrupted knowingly, "I think I may have a bit of an idea. Remember, I kind of spent my entire first year possessed by a book."

"Right, sorry. That kind of slipped my mind."

Ginny chuckled darkly. "Yeah, well, it's not something I have an easy time forgetting." She moved her hand close to where Harry's laid on the table for a moment before quickly returning it to her lap and facing the table once more. There was a moment of silence before Harry's face paled acutely and this time, it was him who turned towards her, his voice filled with panic.

"Gin…when you were in that diary…you had those…er…"

"Blackouts?"

"Yeah," he continued, barely taking a breath between words. "And you know when I thought I'd been possessed last summer? Well, you told me it was impossible because I didn't have lots of time lapses and blackouts but…but now…Now I might be possessed! Who knows what I've done! What if I've hurt someone? Or…or…or what…What if I've _killed_ somebody? Oh, God." Harry's face was no devoid of all color and he pushed his chair away from Ginny's as much as space would allow, as if he was afraid he'd somehow taint her. "No wonder everyone hates me!"

"Harry! Harry, look at me!" Ginny instantly pulled her chair right back next to his and clasped his hand firmly between both of hers. "I don't care if you're possessed by the darkest thing in the universe. Hell, I don't care if Voldemort himself is possessing you, I will never, ever, hate you Harry James Potter! So don't you even think it for a second. I am your friend and I care about you. There is nothing you can ever do to change that, okay? We're in this together now."

Harry offered her his best smile given the current circumstances, though his features were still laced with worry. "Thanks, Ginny. That, well…it means a lot, y'know."

"You don't have to thank me, you know that…"

He put his other hand in Ginny's and told her sincerely, "I don't want to hurt you."

She smiled. "I'm pretty tough, no worries." They sat in silence for a few minutes; this time however, it was far from awkward and in a way, almost comforting.

Harry glanced up at the clock and was back in panic mode. "Shit!" He leapt from the table, spilling his pumpkin juice straight into Ginny's lap in the process. "God, Gins, I'm sorry." He muttered apologetically and cast about for something to clean up the mess.

Ginny simply laughed. "We are capable of doing magic, Silly." He smiled sheepishly as she whispered a cleaning charm and with a simple wave of her wand both the table and her skirt were clean and dry once again. "What's the big rush anyway?"

"Oh, I just have double Potions first thing this morning, and I woke up in such a refreshed mood I forgot my text and things upstairs and I need to run up and get them or Professor Snape will have a fit. Thanks for the sleeping draught, by the way. It did wonders."

She wasn't sure what he meant, and then realized that Snape must have given him something for the nightmares last night, the events of which Harry clearly didn't recall. Better not to bring it up right now, though, she'd just gotten him calmed down. Best just to play along. "Oh, well, you're welcome." And then she saw that he was still shaking slightly. In an act of pure impulse she jumped up and caught his arm in her hand, pulling him back towards her and into a bit-more-than-friendly embrace. "Everything's gong to be alright, Harry" she whispered softly. "I promise."

Harry attempted another smile before he dashed out of the hall. Ginny gave the table of her housemates one last look of contempt before gathering her things and telling Luna a silent goodbye before heading out of the hall and onto her own first class. Whatever happened, she would make things right. She had to.


	5. Potions and Puzzles

**A/N:** Before you start throwing rotten fruit, I know it's been forever, and I'm sorry! I've actually had this chapter written for a while I just now got around to typing it up and getting it betafied. Hooray! Give me two more weeks and I'll be out of school and have more time for writing, which is always lovely. Enough rambling, onto the chapter! And as always, reviews make me happy :)

**Chapter 5: Potions and Puzzles**

Harry scurried through the doorway to the Potions classroom just as the bell was sounding for class to begin.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Potter- arriving late as usual. Too busy pledging your undying love for Ms. Weasley in front of the entire great hall to make it to my class when you're supposed to? Or were you smuggled up in an alcove with some new Hufflepuff bimbo of yours? Oh wouldn't that break dear Ginny's heart when it gets back to you.

Ron was glaring daggers by this point, believing every word Snape said, and appeared as if he'd like nothing better than to give Harry a black eye. Harry's blush, which has slowly been creeping up his face as Snape ridiculed him, quickly disappeared as he sneered in reply, "Well, Snape, are you a bit jealous of Ginny and I because of your own tragic lack of a love life? Or is it because you'd like nothing better than to have her all to yourself to satisfy every one of your…"

"Detention, Potter!" At this utterance from the professor, in a voice that coming from him clearly meant imminent death, the few scattered snickerings immediately ceased.

"Did I hit a nerve there, Snape? My _deepest _apologies."

Severus hated disrespect more than anything else, but sarcasm and insincerity, though they were traits he displayed vividly, came as close seconds. "You're already earned a week of detention, Potter, and if you don't watch your mouth it will be 100 house points and detention until you graduate!" The professor had reached a seemingly new level of fury, and the rest of the students returned to silently working on their potions, as to avoid his wrath.

However, all were distracted a few seconds of tense silence later when a cauldron near the front of the room exploded, drenching none other than Neville Longbottom with its contents. The boy promptly began to panic as if the liquid covering him was going to cause his death.

"Hush, Longbottom! You've been making a mild dream serum! No matter how much you've botched it, you will suffer no lasting damage!" This statement did nothing to quell the boy's fears, seeing as Snape tended to have a different view of what constituted 'lasting damage' than most of the students. Neville's face grew even paler. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Longbottom!" Severus pointed sharply at the still open doorway and the boy scampered out of sight as fast as was possible.

"Whatever the headmaster was thinking when he allowed _certain_ people," his gaze now came to rest on Harry, how was still hovering near the door, "advance to NEWT level Potions I know not. But it was clearly an atrocious mistake.

The class made a point to once again return to their work, as Snape went back to marking essays, though his pen was a good deal more vicious than before. A few moments later he glanced up to see that Harry was still standing. "Potter- sit down NOW!" he barked testily, and the boy slid into an empty seat in the rear corner before Snape added, "Up. Front." Harry angrily moved seats, making quite a show of slamming his things about in the process. The only vacant seat up front was the one Neville had previously occupied, and was now dripping with lavender goo. The seat, unfortunately, was also beside Hermione, who simply looked at him in a somewhat-sympathetic way until he snapped at her to stop gawking. She looked like she was ready to burst into tears again, but this time managed to contain them by returning her full attention to vigorously stirring her potion.

Harry murmured a quick cleaning spell on the chair and surrounding area before taking a seat. He contemplated vanishing the current glop and starting fresh, but that thought was soon abandoned when he noticed that the instructions on the board said the potion took an hour and forty minutes to complete and he was down to a little under ninety minutes. He was left with no choice but to try and fix whatever Neville had done wrong and turn it into something halfway useful by the end of the lesson. Harry was positive that it was a simple mistake that had been made, Neville's usually were, but there were so many simple mistakes he could have made in fifteen minutes that discovering the source was impossible (For Harry anyway. Severus would have deduced in a matter of seconds what the problem was). Asking either Hermione or Snape was also out of the question.

Harry gave the work his best effort and his mixture had almost achieve a dark purple, though nothing remotely close to Hermione's deep violet coloring. Nevertheless, the end of the lesson found Harry's potion being spelled away and Snape insisting he remain after class.

The bell had rung and the other students packed up and filed out, but to Harry it seems as though an eternity passed as Snape sat glaring at him from behind his desk before standing and approaching him. Snape appeared relatively calmer than Harry expected given the current circumstances. "Mr. Potter," he began, placing his palms against the table and leaning over so his eyes were level to Harry's. "The headmaster insists that we must resume our Occlumancy lessons, despite any hesitation on either of our parts, and I have agreed to honor his request. You are expected to do the same."

"No!" his reply came quickly, and full of what seemed to be a desperate fear mingled with growing anger. "I won't! He can't make me! I'm sick of being manipulated and drug around with my entire life decided and planned out for me! I don't want to follow blindly whatever stupid ideas come across his mind! I'm not a child! I can make my own decisions!"

Snape held his temper in check throughout Potter's tirade. Regardless of the situation causing it, Potter was opening up the tiniest bit, and all it takes is the smallest crack to bring an entire wall tumbling down. It was best to let Potter get this out of his system now. "Well, Mr. Potter," he began again when the child had stopped carrying on, "I'm sorry to inform you, but you ARE a child!" His voice level rose a slight note in frustration, but the sneer he donned was simply an effort on his part to hide the smile at his newest success. "You are a child, and you attend this institution, and are therefore required to do as the professors and authority figures here tell you to!" The boy's eyes continued to burn with anger, and resentment, and probably a thousand other emotions, but what mattered to Severus was that they burned with _something_.

"I won't. You can't force be to!"

"I can, Potter, and I will." He decided any further argument at this point would only prove to be counterproductive to their (his) goal of unraveling the enigma that was Potter. "You will report to my office at 7:00 PM every Monday evening and we will study Occlumancy. Fail to show up and I assure you that you will not find the consequences pleasant. Severus would be damned if his own students didn't have the courtesy to at least show up for appointments. But he had a feeling Harry would come. He had, after all, taken the sleeping potion Severus had given him the night before, and the dark circles had vanished from their previous places. He continued, "And what our luck, tonight is Monday night." Harry kept glaring as his professor rattled on; his arms crossed and face defiant. It wasn't fair! Adults kept trying to make all of his decisions for him, and he hated it! He was _sixteen_! "Then I suppose we have the matter of your detentions to attend to. So, I will see you at 5 o'clock tonight for your detention, and Occlumancy lesson following after.

"But dinner! You can't…"

"Don't even say it Potter. You and I both know that I can do this. Every night this week you will report to my office at five PM. That is my final word."

Potter looked for a moment like he was going to say something in response but changed his mind. He had a resigned, and almost sad look about him, as he muttered a quiet "Yes, Sir" and gathered his things waiting to be dismissed.

"That is all, Potter. Five o'clock tonight, don't be late."

The boy nodded and left silently, leaving Severus to mull over what he'd learned. It seemed that every time he got close to figuring something out in regards to the boy's behavior, it only led to more mysteries. He hated that nothing seemed to get him any closer to solving Potter. He didn't even know why he wanted to solve him, but he did. Something about puzzles intrigued Severus; they always had, since he was a young child. And Potter was the largest, most complicated puzzle he'd ever encountered.

Harry was fairly subdued for the rest of the afternoon, not absorbing a word of Professor Flitwick's lecture as he sat alone and was thankful when lunch hour arrived, that is, until he remembered he couldn't go to lunch because the entire school seemed to be angry with him. He know he should eat since, thanks to Snape, he wasn't going to get dinner, but he couldn't force him self to face the swarms of hatred waiting in the Great Hall for him.

It seemed like and eternity that Harry sat outside of the library waiting for the bell signaling the end of lunch to toll, because starting at walls wasn't exactly his favorite pastime. It rang soon enough, but upon reaching the History of Magic classroom, the glares and whispers finally forced Harry to breaking point. Without saying a word he stood and strode from the classroom, slamming the door behind him, and leaving the others staring after him in stunned silence. He stormed down the steps and out the front doors of the castle and didn't stop until he reached a cluster of trees on the far side of the lake. Flinging his school bag from his shoulder, He let loose all of the pent up frustration and rage that had been boiling just below the surface all day.

He kicked a few rocks into the lake, but not having quite the desired effect, he changed tactics. There was a low stone bench nearby, where he, Ron, and Hermione, had used to sit during their morning breaks. He angrily slammed is fist into the side of the bench, and enjoying the sensation of release is gave him, repeated the action several more times before collapsing onto the ground, his back resting against the cool stone of the bench behind him.

No more than a few minutes later Harry awoke, feeling rather stiff and wondering where the well-rested, elated feeling he'd woken up with had disappeared to, because all he felt now was an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and dread. Opening his eyes, Harry saw the lake, and couldn't seem to recall coming outside. Shouldn't he be in class? There was never much down time in the middle of the day on Mondays. Was it even still Monday? He didn't usually forget entire days, but it had happened before. There was also that one time when he'd been 6 and lost nearly three weeks, including his seventh birthday. Beginning to worry, Harry quickly cast a "Temperas" charm. He sighed in relief upon discovering that it was still Monday- 5 o'clock. Wait a minute; didn't he have somewhere he was supposed to be at five?

All of a sudden his face paled as he remembered exactly where it was that he had an appointment, and it was the last place on the planet that he wanted to arrive late to. Leaving his bag and other school things behind in his rush, Harry made a mad dash for the castle and towards the dungeons, not even noticing his bruised and bloodied hand. Completely engaged in his thoughts, Harry ran into something with a thud and went sprawling on the floor of the entrance hall.

Some part of him knew that he didn't want to identify the figure looming over him, but he glanced up anyway, gulping as his eyes met the burning black ones of none other than Professor Snape.


End file.
